The Life of an Assistant: Ginger
by ladydelirium007
Summary: Ginger's life before she was an assistant.


I'm horrified of commitment. Really, I am. I'm sure you're probably going, 'she's exaggerating. Everyone's a little afraid of commitment.' But I am not exaggerating. I have a phobia of commitment. There's probably even a name for it. The thought of commitment makes me want to vomit.  
  
Still say I'm over reacting? Do you need examples? Okay. I've been engaged three times, ran away on my wedding day once and I've been left at the alter once. I hate commitment. The sight of Toby's wedding ring is enough to send me into convulsions. A wedding invitation gives me the urge to flee.  
  
I never commited when I was young. I couldn't keep a job. I never went on more thn three dates with a guy. I constantly switched classes, never being satisfied with what I was doing. I even changed schools three times during high school.  
  
I was miserable at college. Freshman year was fine, but the I got tired of the same place. I started to think, 'God, I have to be here for three more years, maybe more.' I was gone by the end of sophomore year.  
  
A month after I dropped out I met my first fiance. I hated him but I fell in love with his name. Adam Von Torrah. Who wouldn't fall in love with that name? I loved the way it sounded, the way my name sounded with it. Ginger Von Torrah. I wrote it on everything I could. The name was great but the guy definately wasn't. He was rude and obnixious and a total frat boy. He was so not my type.  
  
I met him at a party my friends dragged me to. They introduced me to him. He was so handsome I didn't even relise what a jerk he was. We dated, and I fianlly did relise what a jerk he was, but his looks an his name completely blinded me. I didn't care what he was like.  
  
When he prosposed the first thought that came to mind was, 'I'll have his name.' So of course I said yes.  
  
Three weeks before the wedding I was dress shopping with my maid of honor and I started to think about life with him, life with anyone and relised that it would be eternity. The word eternity made me break out in hives. I'm not kidding. Right there in the middle of the dress shopp I brike out in hives. I explained to Adam why I couldn't marry him. He yelled, and I left. I went to Florida.  
  
I lived in a cheap motel in Florida. I had little money and no job. But I loved it. I could do what ever I wanted.  
  
I met my next fiance at the McDonalds by my Motel. I was down to my last dollar and I was so hungry but I didn't have enough for a whole meal. I started crying. He bought me a hamburger, asked me where I was staying, made a face and insisted that I come to stay at his place for a while.  
  
He was nice. He was so nice. But it was the kind of nice that never stops, the kind of nice that could make you sick. But I was 21. I thought it was sweet, and he was giving me money and a place to stay. No one had ever been that nice to me. I liked it.  
  
I lived with him for a month before we started dating. We only dated for four weeks before he said that he wanted to get married, and I wanted to have a place to stay and besides, I thought I loved him. Two days before the wedding I was looking at my wedding dress and going over the menu for the reception and I relised how much I didn't want to do it. I left a note and left for Indiana. Don't ask me why I went to Indiana, It just seemed reasonable at the time.  
  
The next guy was the geek. The safe one. The one I was sure would never want to marry me.  
  
I met him at my 23rd birthday party that my roomates had for me. He'd just graduated from Ball State with a degree in Political Science.  
  
That was when my passion for politics started.We'd watch debates and Senate votes together. We argue for hours about gun control laws and anything else we could think of.  
  
He wanted to marry me.  
  
We dated for a year. I did love him, but not enough to marry him. He was my best friend. Fortunately, I figured this out a week after he proposed. He understood, and we still keep in touch.  
  
The next one proves my fear of commitment. I loved him. God I loved him.  
  
When I was 24 I moved to California. I was thinking about being an actress. I have no idea why, I can't act.  
  
I met him in a bar LA. I'll never forget his name. Mike Welch. I loved him so much and he loved me. We were perfect for each other. We filled in each other's blanks, read each others thoughts.  
  
He was the bartender and I was hanging around the bar, feeling sorry for myself. He was kind of gruff and sarcastic, but when I started to cry he got real sympathetic, and he bought me a drink.  
  
I returned to the bar every night to see him, but most of the time he was just quiet. After months of trying to get him to talk to me I gave up. I stopped going to the bar. But when I lost my job I went back, feeling sorry for myslef. He bought me a drink, the same one I had ordered every time I came in, and he actually talked to me. He was working in the bar so he could pay for college. He wanted to be a teacher. He was so passionate about what he wanted to do.  
  
Toby reminds me of him. Maybe that's why I like Toby so much.  
  
I wanted to marry him. I really did. I even made it to the church. I was in the bride's room minutes before the ceremony when the same words began to rush through my head. Commitment. Eternity. Forever. I got scared. I quietly excused myslef from the room. I ran home, packed a suit case, and got in the car without even changing out of the dress.  
  
I still cry when I think about that one. I hurt myself and I hurt him. I'll never forgive myself for it.  
  
I moved to Arizona after that. I lived with some relatives since I couldn't keep. I took a couple of years off from guys. The past five years had been emotionally draining.  
  
I didn't go out again until I was 27. I went ith my cousins to see their friend perform with a local band. After the show they introduced me to him. We went out for drinks that night and dated for three months.  
  
There was nothing wrong with him. There really wasn't. We just didn't click. He didn't measure up to Mike. I was going to break up with him before it got to the point where I wouldn't be able to. But I made the horrible mistake of calling my mother before I did it. She started talking about how dissappointed she was in me. My sisters were all married with large quantities of children. I was the only one left. She made me feel so horrible that when I went to break up with my boyfriend I ended up telling him that I wanted to get married.  
  
I wasn't going to run away this time. I was ready to get married whether I was in love or not. I was tired of being alone, of being te only one not married. I wasn't going to leave him.  
  
He left me. The day of the wedding. He just didn't show up. We waited for hours for him to show up or call. He never did. I was so humiliated. I now knew how the others felt when I left them. I cried for days, non-stop. Not because of the guy. Because I was embarresed. Because I knew how the others felt, and I felt so bad and guilty.  
  
Joining the campaign was the first commitment I ever made. I was still feeling low beacause of the wedding. I was at the point where I needed to find something to commit to. I needed to prove to everyone that I wasn't a total screw up.  
  
I was watching CNN one night, eating chocolate chip cookies and remembering fiance #3. I hadn't really been following the campaign because I'd been so busy making plans for the wedding. I didn't even know who was running. I was trying to catch up with all the names and parties when Josiah Bartlet come on the screen. His words were so truthful. I felt an over whelming urge to be near him, to serve him. I packed up everything that would fit into three suitcases, threw the rest in my trunk and drove across the country to New Hampshire.  
  
I spent the first few weeks stuffing envelopes and running odd errands. I only knew one person, a girl named Bonnie who was working in communications. I wasn't getting paid, I was alone, but I loved it. I loved working for a cause, being part of something.  
  
I'd been working there for nearly a month when I heard the infamous Toby Ziegler bellowing at no on in particular for some file and no one knew what he was talking about. I have no idea how I did it, but I somehow found the file he was talking about .I gave it to him. He looked at me for a moment, nooded, and walked away.  
  
A week later I was standing in Leo McGarry's office. He was telling me what a great job I was doing. I thougt he was firing me. I was so scared that it didn't even occur to me that I was a volunteer. At that moment I relised I'd never been so scared of losing something in my whole life. I was so scared that I didn't hear Leo talking until he said, "So you'll be working as Toby's assistant from now on and you'll be on payroll.  
  
My first week on the job I hardly even saw Toby. I spent most of my time with the other assistants. They were breaking me in. at that time it was Bonnis, Margaret, Carol, and Mrs. Landingham. Soon Donna would join us. We found out that all of us had a reason to be there. Some were more tragic than others. We bonded, and became great friends.  
  
Toby and I clicked. It was nothing like Josh and Donna, but we still clicked. We understood each other. I liked working for him and I liked him.  
  
I've never told Toby about my past. I guess I'm ashamed of it. I don't want him to know. Bonnie says it's because I have a crush on him. She also says that's why I haven't dated anyone since my last engagement. She's probably right.  
  
Right now I'm sitting in front of my closet, looking at three barely used wedding dresses. I relise I'm crying and I wipe the ters away, but more come and cant stop them.  
  
For some reason I want to talk to Toby. I pick up the phone and dial the familiar number.  
  
"Toby Ziegler."  
  
"I've been engaged five times." I don't know why I told him. I didn't call with the intention of telling him. it just slipped out.  
  
He's silent, but I know he knows it's me. The silence is uncomfortable so I say, "Toby?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Did you hear me?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And?" I ask nervously.  
  
"Why did you feel the need to tell me this?"  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
"Are you crying?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Have you ever seen that movie Runaway Bride?"  
  
"No," he says, but I know he's lying. He's a closet Julia Roberts fan. One time he sent me to his apartment to pick up a file he left there and he has, like, all her movies.  
  
"I'm like the Julia Roberts charecter. I can't follow through with commitment."  
  
"You've been working for me for over four years."  
  
"Well that's because I like you."  
  
"You didn't like your fiances?"  
  
"I loved one of them. But I still couldn't do it."  
  
"So you loved him but left, and you like me and you've stayed."  
  
"You remind me of him."  
  
"Of who?"  
  
"The one I loved."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"You're both very passionate about your work. You're both extremely sarcastic. But you're also caring."  
  
"I'm not caring."  
  
"Yes you are."  
  
"Okay, but don't tell people that."  
  
"Your secret's safe with me."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Toby, I'm looking at three wedding dresses. And you know what I just noticed?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"They're exactly the same."  
  
"Is there something wierd about that?"  
  
"Yes. Don't you think that if I wanted a wedding dress that looked exacly like the previous one that I would of saved money and just wore the previous one?"  
  
"I think you didn't want to remember your mistakes, so you bought a new one each time."  
  
"But why would I buy identicle ones?"  
  
"Because you didn't want to let go of the memories."  
  
"Like you with your wedding ring?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
WE're both silent for a few minutes. "Thanks." I say.  
  
"No problem."  
  
"I'll see you at ork tommarrow."  
  
"Yeah, bye."  
  
I hang up the phone. I look at the dresses for a few more minutes, then I close the closet door.  
  
FIN 


End file.
